RAIN
Thunder rolled softly in the distance as Annie McDougal exited the train terminal onto Jackson Boulevard. She had just arrived from her home in Arlington Heights and was on her way to Chicago’s Loop to buy herself a birthday gift, one of the few self-indulgences she allowed herself. As she crossed the Canal Street Bridge, she inhaled the negative ions of the approaching storm and felt an exhilaration she had never experienced before. When mist from the approaching rain began to touch her face like tiny cold fingers, she headed for shelter at the nearby ladies’ apparel shop but changed her mind when she noticed The Olde Book Shoppe across the street. Traffic was light as she dashed across the traffic lanes and entered the bookshop at the very moment large raindrops cascaded down from the gathering clouds. High winds began to gust and whip the rain into a frenzy as she pushed the door shut against the force of the wind. The little bell above the door, caught in the gale, ra...